


Shoot to Thrill

by Abbie



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Gratuitous Swearing, I hope, Sass, Snark, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-03
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-15 13:06:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abbie/pseuds/Abbie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tony is actually a man-sized child and Darcy does not have time for this shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shoot to Thrill

**Author's Note:**

> So. I, uh... don't write fic anymore? Except how apparently I do? Because Darcy and Tony. I'm blaming Kari. Stick to your guns, Abbie-girl. Yup, Kari's fault for everything.
> 
> Super-brief barely-a-drabble Tony and Darcy snarky funtime, for the shiggles, because more things should be done for shiggles. Possibly tying into something else I may eventually post that I'm trying really hard not to continue working on (but failing miserably at that.)
> 
> I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry.

Darcy gently pushed Dummy’s claw-hand-grip-thingie away from her person for the seventh time, and she could feel the motion becoming automatic. It was starting to get really annoying, honestly, but she was pretty sure the poor thing was just somehow attempting to be helpful, which was a hell of a lot more than she could say for its creator.

Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, _jackass_ , was currently just a pair of really grubby jeans-clad legs and bare feet sticking out from whatever big, metal… well, she didn’t know _what_ the fuck it was, it had a lot of wires and panels and some gears and tubing and shit. The important thing was he was under the damn thing, where he’d been ignoring her for a solid fifteen minutes, instead of standing in front of her, signing the sheaf of papers on her clipboard which she had hoped to use as the first step in an elaborate three-pronged ruse to lure him back to the lab and project he purportedly shared with Jane and Dr. Banner.

She’d managed to get JARVIS to kill his hearing-damagingly loud classic rock so Tony could actually _hear_ her, but he’d continued to ignore her by picking up where the music had left off, and damn it, she _refused_ to be charmed by his surprisingly good singing voice. Every time she hollered his name, he just sang louder, and she was starting to hate this song due to association, which pissed her off because normally she _liked_ it. He could ignore her, he could even program his well-meaning robots to bumblingly run interference on her, but fucking _nobody_ got between Darcy Lewis and music.

Having finally decided Tony wasn’t going to stop being a goddamn seven-year-old on his own, she sidestepped Dummy’s arm, reached down, got her hands around both his ankles and yanked.

As she’d suspected, he was lying on one of those rolly-plank things mechanics used and emerged quite neatly, if with an absolutely comical expression of incredulous offense.

“Hey! What the hell, does personal space mean nothing to you? Do you frequently go around taking advantage of prostrate men conveniently mounted on wheels? What next, you gonna grab me by the hair and drag me back to your cave?” Tony actually _sprang_ to his feet, only reinforcing Darcy’s headcanon that he was secretly a child under the age of ten with an unusual aging condition.

“No, but I’m strongly considering clubbing you upside the head. There’s a bigass wrench over on that bench there that’d do pretty nicely,” She sniped back, arms folding under her breasts. Predictably, his eyes followed the movement. As a pleasant surprise, they shot back to hers immediately after and without apparent effort. Two grudging points, Stark. “It was either yank you out from under that thing or start up a spontaneous duet of the last half of 'Shoot to Thrill.'”

Tony narrowed his eyes at her and frowned. “You are annoyingly persistent for a lab assistant.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “And you’re annoyingly annoying for a supposedly grown-ass man.” She threw her hands up in the air, then propped them on her hips, shifting most of her weight to her right leg and glaring at him over her glasses. “Look, I had a whole scheme going on to get you back down to the labs, but you’ve utterly fucked it rotten, now, so hows about we both just skip to the afterglow and you come back down and reassure Team Science that you are, in fact, still alive and still interested in whatever the fuck it is you guys have been cooking up down there.”

Tony folded his arms and tucked his chin down to raise an imperious eyebrow at her. “Hows about _no_. You can prance back down to the labs and tell everyone that the world is still graced with my living, breathing, brilliant and beautiful form, and I can get back to work on my new armor while the vision is still bright and shiny. Everybody wins, Fitzwilliam.”

Darcy gave him a look that clearly told him how cute he was. “Oh, wow, a _Pride and Prejudice_ joke! Holy shit, I have _never_ heard that one before. I’d be super flattered that you actually remember my name to make shitty jokes out of it, but I’m just too busy being wowed by your verbal genius. So busy, in fact, that I no longer have time for your bullshit and will physically drag you to the labs to explain your urgent eureka moment yourself, because I am not about to establish a pattern of pushover-pushee behavior with you. I have talked to Pepper. I have heard the stories. You are not going to out-asshole me, I come from a family of _enormous_ assholes and you. Do not. Come close.”

Tony’s eyes had gone wide and his eyebrows climbed towards his frankly crazy hair—she was pretty sure it was engine grease, not styling product, that kept it so spiky and… everywhere. “I don’t remember you being this snarky. And I thought you were Foster’s package-deal flunkie; you’re not secretly a SHIELD ninja, are you? There is precedent.”

Darcy barked a laugh. “Right, like Coulson would let me anywhere near that kind of security clearance. And this body?” she waved a hand up and down to indicate her frankly phenomenal curves, “does _not_ rock a catsuit. As for what you do and don’t remember, we’ve spoken all of like, five words to each other, because since Jane and I got here, you’ve been mostly disappeared into your workshop. Jane’s getting kinda disgruntled about it, and honestly, I think you’re starting to hurt Banner’s feelings. And have you _met_ that guy? Why the hell would you want to hurt his feelings, he is _adorable_.”

Tony ran a hand over his face, leaving streaks of oil on his forehead and jaw which Darcy stoically refused to comment on, then sighed with all the gustiness of a slashed tire. “Fuck, fine. I will go down there, and I will tell them my project is important at this exact and precise moment, and since they’re doing the physics shit right now anyways they don’t need me backseat driving the equations when the two of them should have this shit on lock all by themselves. There. Does that make you happy?”

Darcy’s smile was slow and catty and, shooting a finger gun at Tony, she replied, “Thrilled.”

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on my Tumblr if this looks at all familiar to anyone.
> 
> Also I apologize for being horrendously unimaginative in my titling. Shoot to Thrill, the song, of course belongs to AC/DC. Everything else that's worth anything at all belongs to Marvel.


End file.
